


Unexpected Odds

by lesbianlilies



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, also mccree is not fond of her for what she did to ana <3, au where basically overwatch didn't explode and disband and all that, gay people, semi-canon, some of the suggested tags on this site are strange, took her a while to recover from all that brainwashing yknow, widow was part of talon but after shootin out ana's eye she began her gradual departure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianlilies/pseuds/lesbianlilies
Summary: It all started with a bet.A silly bet for no more than twenty bucks.“Bold of you to assume that you could land yourself a wedding date in two month’s time,” Pharah laughed.“I’ll bet I can,” McCree exclaimedWith Ana's wedding upcoming in two months, McCree and Pharah make a bet on whether McCree can land himself a genuine date to the event. What he wasn't expecting, however, was his reunion with Genji Shimada to entangle itself with said silly little bet.





	1. Reunion

It all started with a bet.

  
A silly bet for no more than twenty bucks.

  
“Bold of you to assume that you could land yourself a wedding date in two month’s time,” Pharah laughed, her body leaning back against the couch as McCree rested in the chair to her right.

  
“I’ll bet I can,” McCree exclaimed with every ounce of confidence, his lips pressing together with a narrow of his eyes. An attempt to look menacing, but it only brought a laugh out of the woman.

  
“Okay. Twenty bucks you won’t come to my mother’s wedding with anyone by your side,” she declared, thrusting a muscled arm forward. McCree stared at it, listening to the humming of the machinery within the walls as he considered her.

  
Of course, he grabbed her hand and gave it a solid shake, but her grin told him that she held no confidence.

  
“Oh, and if you try and hire a stranger to do it for you, I will know,” she declared, finger pointing towards him in an accusatory manner.

  
McCree feigned offense, holding his hand to his chest with an overly dramatic gasp. “How dare you think me a cheat,” he spat. “I’ll get em fair and square. We bet on that.”

  
“Prove me wrong, McCree.” She stood then, rolling her neck to either side as it crackled. “I’ll be working out if you need me.” Pharah disappeared beyond the door, leaving McCree to naught but the soft hum reverberating from the walls like a gentle constant at the back of his mind.

  
He slumped in the chair, eyes turning to the window upon the ceiling. The sun was out and covered in clouds at the Overwatch base, happenings rather calm lately. It’d only been three years since Blackwatch was disbanded, yet the days weren’t as occupied as they once were now that McCree was called in for special jobs only occasionally.

  
Thankfully, the world seemed that it was willing to calm down in the few months leading up to Ana Amari’s wedding-- thank God for that. The woman deserved peace. She deserved to be in love again. After everything she did for McCree when Reyes picked him up as a mere boy, he came to consider her like a mother. A damn good one at that, and she deserved the world.

  
Ah, but of course before he could ever offer Ana the world, McCree had a bet to win with a two month deadline. It seemed long enough, but there was a problem.  
Who in the Hell would he even begin to woo?  
-

 

McCree was as charming as he had always been back in the Blackwatch days, but only when hell froze over would Genji ever say that to anyone aloud, let alone the man himself. The last thing McCree needed was an ego boost-- or, at least, that was how Genji knew him to be years ago.

  
In all honesty, Genji hadn’t really spoken to the man in years. After Blackwatch disbanded, he set off to the mountains of Nepal and found peace within himself, allowing the hatred for himself and others to be relieved through an immense amount of effort. For once in his life, he acted to better himself by finding himself at Zenyatta’s temple, and he would always be grateful for the omnic.

  
But he had been back at the Overwatch Headquarters for a year now. He had seen McCree, yes, but it always happened that Genji “had business elsewhere” if McCree so much as seemed as though he might look in the man’s direction. Reflexes, Genji told himself.

  
It had nothing to do with the huge crush he had on McCree three years ago. Nothing at all.

  
Well, maybe a little bit.

  
It was a day like any other when Genji was sitting innocently at the furthest corner of the headquarters’ cafeteria. At this point, he was only picking at his food while glancing about the room, soaking in the chattering of agents all about. Hearty laughs echoed and singing stories weaved through the air as most mingled, but Genji sat alone.  
He had been a bloodthirsty, angered person before Blackwatch was disbanded. That was why he was so useful to the team. Not only did he have the abilities of a ninja, but his thirst for blood was strong enough to enable such a high kill count on jobs. It sickened him how he reveled in the sight of crimson spread across the ground, soaking underneath the dark of the night on covert missions.

  
If the agents of Overwatch had noticed Genji’s change in the two years he was gone, they certainly showed no sign of it. Just as ever, he was mostly avoided by the many who didn’t know him, though he did share healthy discussions with those who were close to him before.

  
Well, except for McCree who he actively avoided. Oh, someone certainly told the man that Genji had returned a year back, but if McCree made an effort to talk to him, Genji hadn’t heard of it. Probably because he was hiding from him, though.

  
Why was he even hiding from him now? Perhaps it was because he was conflicted by the negativity in his mindset from those days possibly being mingled with his memories of McCree. Not that McCree was any hint of negative for Genji. In fact, he was rather helpful, hence why Genji felt so close in their relation-- close enough to develop feelings for the man.

  
But he didn’t want to ruin anything. He didn’t want to confuse himself of back then with the him of now. And most of all, he was afraid of those feelings returning. Overwatch didn’t need anymore relationship rumors spreading about, especially not with Ana and Reinhardt’s wedding approaching in a couple of months. When they revealed that, the chaos of the place was astounding.

  
Everybody yet nobody saw it coming. Genji arrived after the reveal, though, but he was glad for her nonetheless. She, too, had been a help to healing him during the Blackwatch days. It was through Zenyatta’s help and Genji’s own effort that he found himself at peace now, however. It took the support of many and the willingness of himself, but he was better now.

  
The only thing that hadn’t changed was his confliction on McCree, of course. The man always came to his thoughts. It was actually to the point that he was imagining him making his way across the cafeteria right now to talk to Genji. A bright smile upon his tanned skin with a strike of determination in his eyes. He walked rather fast. Wait, this was too realistic.

  
Genji stiffened as he locked eyes with McCree-- in the flesh, not an imagination. He had been drifting off into his thoughts amongst the loneliness of the cafeteria, and now it was too late to avoid McCree who clearly was well aware of where Genji was. Oh, he could run away, but that would complicate things far more than they needed to be.  
His throat went tight.

  
This day had to come eventually, didn’t it?  
-

 

By the next day, McCree had nearly forgotten about the bet. And by “nearly,” that meant not at all. It was only twenty dollars, yes, but this was an issue of pride. With Ana like a mother, that meant Fareeha was like a sister. So, naturally, this became an issue that was essentially a sibling rivalry.

  
And McCree was determined to win, even if he had to woo the last man on earth. Shit, he could try and woo a woman-- which would be much easier at headquarters-- but Fareeha was well aware of his orientation. And she knew he wasn’t one to take company of women beyond friends and family.

  
So basically, he had to find someone to bring as a date. It could be as simple as asking, yes, but-- who would even want to? Bringing a stranger would feel odd, too. Fareeha might not even accept that.

  
Ah, the shit he was doing to win a mere twenty bucks and to secure his pride and dignity, huh.

  
All hope seemed like it might be lost by the first day… until he walked into the cafeteria and spotted a face that felt like a ghost.

  
Genji. Of all people to catch his eye, it was the half-omnic man that had served close alongside McCree during their Blackwatch days. Ana had told him that Genji returned a year ago, yet the headquarters must have doubled in size overnight, for McCree had not run into him ever.

  
Sometimes, he thought he caught glimpses of the man. His dark hair slipping around the corner, a sword peeking through a window, etc. But the hall around the corner was always empty, and there was nothing at the bottom of the window outside. No sign of Genji. So despite hearing that he was back-- and knowing that he was somewhere-- McCree had not run into him. He stopped trying to seek him out after a month, but for their eyes to finally lock like this-

  
McCree hurried over so he could corner him. They were close in Blackwatch, he liked to think. At first, he was drawn to Genji out of a sort of pity, yet he came to realize their similarities. Angsty boys with troubled youths, hell bent on hurting others. Well, McCree was in a gang, not murdered by his older brother, but he remembered the anger he brought with him to Overwatch all those years ago.

  
Back then, McCree didn’t know how to describe his relation to Genji. Friends seemed easiest, but when Blackwatch ended and Genji left Overwatch for a couple years, it appeared that label couldn’t fit anymore. Three years of not speaking was… quite a long time.

  
But McCree had a bet to win. He had his pride to save. And Genji? He was right in front of his eyes for the first time in years, almost like the sun shimmered down a spotlight right on the man-- just for McCree.

  
Genji was stiff as McCree approached, but he offered the half-omnic a cheeky grin that brought out a hesitant smile in Genji’s own lip. The lights of the cafeteria seemed to dim elsewhere as he approached, and McCree could no longer hear the reverberating conversations that bounced about the room.

  
He reached the table, slammed his hands down, and took a seat. “Genji,” he said, voice stark in its seriousness. “Gotta favor t’ ask.”

  
Genji lifted a brow, his head tilting in a birdlike manner. “It’s been three years since we last spoke. And you are asking a favor?” he replied, voice flowing as smooth as it always had, still holding that light ring to its edges as it once did. It appeared he had more softness to his tone more often these days. McCree could already sense it from the few words Genji had uttered. He changed, but it felt warm.

  
He nodded. “Yea. Should I uh… reintroduce myself?” McCree inquired, mimicking Genji’s raised brow and tilted head.

  
Genji chuckled softly, his lips curling as he darted his eyes to the ground. The corners crinkled with a genuine delight, his skin practically glowing with warmth about his features. McCree felt a flutter in his chest, an excitement. Maybe it was because he never brought up the subject often around others, but he really did miss having Genji around. It was good to see him again.

  
“What sort of favor do you need?” he asked, arms resting flat on the table. McCree grinned.

  
And then he coughed, scratched at the back of his head, and avoided eye contact. He was swept away by the joy of seeing an old friend that he forgot his own favor was… getting a date.

  
“Well, ya see…” McCree stammered, biting his lips together. “Fareeha and I… we uh made a deal, yea? A bet, more like it.” Another curious gaze from the intensity of Genji’s eyes, a deepened color that looked black under night and a deep crimson in the light. Part of his cybernetics, he told McCree once. His eyes were usually black, supposedly. Before… everything happened. He heaved a sigh. “Listen, I made a bet with Fareeha that I could get someone t’ go to Ana’s wedding in a couple a months,” McCree explained, forcing his eyes forward. He was usually good at this stuff-- flirting and all. A charming smile and words laced with sweetness. But for some reason, he could never utter the right words in front of Genji. They never left his lips, nor did they even come to mind. He stumbled in front of the man, and it had frustrated him often.  
It was frustrating him now, too. What was wrong with him?

  
“You… need a wedding date?” Genji inquired, his head leaning forward with question. McCree’s face felt hot as he nodded.

  
“But there’s a catch, ‘course.”

  
“Hit me.”

  
The fluttering in McCree’s chest wouldn’t calm, yet Genji seemed way too content for the moment. “Fareeha seems to want uh. Somethin’ more authentic,” he began to explain, struggling to hold eye contact with Genji. How much more of his dignity was he going to kill if he kept breaking eye contact over something so childish? “Y’know what they say. Fake it till ya make it or whatever.”

  
The man opposite was dumbfounded now, blinking repeatedly without words. Perhaps it wasn’t processing in that brain of his-- which was still human-- but McCree certainly wasn’t keen on repeating himself.

  
All Genji replied was, “Dinner.”

  
“‘Scuse me?”

  
“Tomorrow night, let’s have dinner. We can walk by Mercy’s office on the way out. Does Pharah not spend much of her time there still?”

  
“Oh, Fareeha’s still glued to that place-- wait. You’ll do it?”

  
Genji nodded once, a quick and stark yes. “I am happy to assist in healthy sibling rivalry, after all.”

  
McCree couldn’t stifle his grin. “Great. Dinner tomorrow it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im bad at writing descriptions and i don't know how to tag things. this is the first time I've ever posted on ao3 and the last fanfic i really wrote was a criminal minds one when i was 13 so uh. i hope it turned out alright? sorry if lore is like. messy. I haven't exactly researched the two double spaced pages of overwatch's "lore" any time recently.
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy? xoxo


	2. Rainy Cliche (finished)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree and Genji go on that promised dinner date, but afterwards, the weather has its own plans.

McCree sneezed into his elbow, his face contorted before calming once the deed was done. "Damn allergies," he cursed, rolling his eyes at Springtime's beloved gift. With growing flora and thriving fauna came the reintroduction to far too much pollen-- and that was an absolute pain in the ass for someone with allergies. Eyes watering, nose running. Sneezing, sometimes even coughing. Like a whole damn cold just because of some shit in the air. Like natural air pollution, but not quite deadly to the environment.

Because the world was pausing to catch its breath lately, McCree lived nearby to the restaurant that Genji picked out for their date (he was going to suggest it anyways, so it was a pleasant surprise to find a similarity) instead of inside the Overwatch barracks. Of course, much of his life was spent within the headquarters regardless, but some nights he preferred to sleep alone. Not in a room with a roommate or two. Not in the multi-rooms where there were several in one space. Not even a couch in one of the lounge rooms. None of it would do, and he enjoyed his small apartment well enough. Small kitchen, a bathroom attached to a decent sized bedroom, and a living area where he kept a couch and a screen for watching shows or movies. He bought the cheaper ones rather than the holographic, mostly because he preferred having something more solid, not like a weaving ghost.

It was no more than a fifteen minute walk to the restaurant, and McCree was certain to arrive a little early so he could be the one to grab the table. After all, this wasn't a restaurant that was so horribly busy that reservations were necessary, but coming early could still guarantee a decent seating option. Preferably by the front windows-- not to be witnessed by the passersby but rather to witness them. He loved to people watch, although he never mentioned it to people. Kept his mouth shut on these interests, but even in his gang days he did this. Watching, listening. Only inserting himself when necessary-- or the opposite, mostly out of playful spite.

Clouds rolled over head, resting in a slate gray color. McCree squinted a moment, wondering if there might be rain. Well, shit. He might have done up his hair a little bit (not to look fancy but as it always did just more... controlled), so to think that the rain might wash it down and perhaps even curl the edges was a draining thought. Oh, and the fact that he had to walk home. That would be a pain in the ass all in one.

As he stepped inside, his dress casual (and without the hat, unfortunately), McCree was greeted by the omnic hostess who bowed before him. "It is nice seeing you here again," he said with a light hum of machinery. A smile, McCree guessed. Audible, but the equivalent. "Your guest has arrived first."

McCree quirked a brow. "My guest?" he inquired. "This early?"

"He noted that you would be here soon. He's in the seat by the window, sir." He gestured towards the seating area where, of course, Genji was sitting comfortably by the window, his gaze lost to the busy streets outside. McCree couldn't help but let out a small laugh-- he was outdone, again. Genji and he always had a bet on who could kill most of Talon on missions and plenty of other ridiculous bets, but to think his competitiveness would bleed into even a "date" was a bit entertaining. He couldn't help his grin.

It certainly was nice to meet an old friend again, especially since it had been three years-- and there was something more serene about Genji, like he had found his calm outside of his relation with McCree as well.

Walking through a room echoing with the clink of utensils against plates and glasses, McCree kept his eyes locked on the seat across Genji whose back was towards him. He seemed to be wearing a comfortable sweatshirt and pants-- not so much "date" wear, but they were mostly here under the guise of a date but rather as friends. For now, it was catching up. As they reconnected, perhaps their spending time by one another might convince Fareeha of McCree's potential win.

His pride, saved. His wallet? Only barely filled a bit more, but it was truly the sibling rivalry that fueled him into this. Twenty bucks or not, McCree held himself determined to win against Fareeha's doubts-- so he certainly would succeed. And he was going to rekindle his friendship with Genji in the mean time. A win-win, really.

He continued onwards until he settled in the seat across from Genji. The man seemed to have a slight grin to his lip, something bright about him. McCree held his breath a moment.

———

“And I thought that I was gettin’ here early,” McCree remarked as he shuffled into the hair opposite Genji, the light reflecting in his eyes. Genji had always loved looking into the depths of the man’s eyes, especially the way the sun shimmered about and brought out a golden brown color that was richer than caramel, sweeter than chocolate.

“I had little to do, so I figured I would get us a good spot,” Genji remarked, his hand gesturing to the area around them. 

Overhead were dim lanterns with glass coverings that were etched with intricate floral designs, matching the white lace-like design of the tables (though they were polished marble, strangely fancy for a place McCree claimed to be casual). A few others dined not far off, their forks clinking against plates and tables, laughter not far off. 

Sometimes, Genji missed the calm of the Nepal temple. The quiet. The solace of it all. But right now? He welcomed the background chatter that embraced him in a way that felt like home beside McCree tonight. It felt like old times yet entirely different, especially since Genji was a far more talkative person these days.

“What’s Fareeha up to these days?” Genji decided to ask, finding that he desperately wanted to keep up conversation lest he turn awkward. McCree was good at talking his head off, but Genji didn’t want to always be considered a listener. That only made him someone to talk to but not someone to spend time with. That’s how it used to be, though not for McCree. Still, he couldn’t help but fear that this dinner would turn awkward at some point— and it would probably be Genji’s fault. In all honestly, he felt that familiar heart thumping at his chest that he had three years back. He couldn’t claim it to be the machine part of his body acting odd because his heart was still his— wholly human.

"Couple jobs here and there. Scares the shit outta Ana every damn time, though I'm sure she's talked about that much," McCree replied as he reached for the glass of water that had been left on the table before he had arrived. "Spendin' her days with the Doc and all." Ah, Genji had almost forgotten about Fareeha's relation with Angela, though it was no secret to any. Fareeha was largely flirty in public, so whatever they tried to hide didn't last long. At least, that was how Genji heard it. He wasn't exactly witness to much of this-- except the few times Fareeha would wander in while he was getting a routine checkup.

"How does she feel about Reinhardt?" he wondered. After all, Fareeha was still close with her father, from what Genji could recall of how McCree spoke of her a few years back. To have a new step-father-- nonetheless, someone you knew as a "family friend" for the longest time-- would certainly have to be... something. Genji wasn't sure how he would feel considering his parents were dead and who knew what Hanzo was up to. Who cared?

He was certain that his brother had nobody by his side, and perhaps that was more painful for Genji to imagine than it should have been.

"I reckon she'll treat him as she always has," McCree offered with a shrug. "Seems to me that it don't bother her none. Though, I'm sure she finds it a bit odd here and there seein' her mother holdin' hands with someone she used to hear old tales of."

"I suppose it could be," Genji remarked, just as the waiter arrived at the table, eyes curious on the two.

"Have you decided what you'd like to eat?" he inquired. Genji nodded. He had already picked before McCree even arrived, though he noticed that McCree was quickly scanning the menus a moment before ultimately decided to get the "usual." The waiter, holding a hint of recognition, knew exactly what that meant and hurried off to put in the orders.

"Come here often?" Genji wondered, a light and playful tone to his voice as he slightly teased the man.

"Now that's an old one," McCree chuckled. "But to answer your question, yeah. I don't live far off. You couldn't have picked a more convenient spot."

Genji just replied with a smile, keeping to himself the fact that he actually had gone to ask Ana about it. She gave him a list of his favorites but pointed out that the restaurant Genji ultimately picked was one that McCree frequented often. It couldn't have been more perfect, though the weather was beginning to say otherwise. As he glanced out, Genji noticed that a few droplets of rain were staining the concrete outside, a few hitting against the window to his left.

His body was so shoddy that it might short circuit in rain or water, though it did leave him admittedly cold for a long while-- or hot, if the water was at least lukewarm. His body's own way of trying to identify senses in places where his flesh and bone were absent. Hell, his entire right arm had been sliced clean off before he was found dying outside Hanamura. Lucky of him that undercover Overwatch agents found him before rats might have. To this day, however, he never understood why he was spared and kept alive. Nonetheless, he had come to be grateful for it. Before, he would have cursed at them for letting him live as something that was scarcely human, not even living. He was once his own shadow with a taste for vengeance and blood, but things were alright now. He accepted his humanity-- his heart still beating and his brain still intact-- regardless of the cybernetics wrapped about his insides.

Through dinner, the two of them ate and chatted a bit, asking questions about how things were going around the headquarters now, including Genji often dodging explaining the fact that he intentionally avoided McCree for an entire year since his return. It was all basic talk that delved into gossip about the others around them, not quite daring to dig into the personal. Not yet. With McCree, Genji had only gotten personal a few times during the Blackwatch days, but those days were over and Genji was different. There were things he could talk about now-- and with much less hatred in his heart, too. Though, the topics had not come up, like McCree was careful to dance about the past as the Genji he knew was the one who still held all that anger. This was only their second meeting since Genji left three years ago, so he figured their rekindled friendship had a little further to be built.

And he was mentally cursing himself for so easily slipping back into that sense of attraction for McCree, the tiny spark of a crush reigniting as he watched the man's lips curl into a smile as he spoke, eyes lighting up as the two brought up topics of the past that didn't bear the pain much other bits had. And Genji was ever so careful not to mention Reyes. He, too, had not been seen in three years after the disbandment of Blackwatch. A mission gone wrong, they said, but there was no body.

Everybody thought it was such a bad accident that perhaps he was unrecognizable as human, but was Reyes close enough to the explosion to have been harmed by it? Genji and the others had visited the site right after, standing besides a weeping Morrison-- one of the strangest things to have seen in quite a while.

The rain fell harder now as Genji wrestled with McCree over who'd pay the bill. He insisted he pay it all, but McCree was stubborn to the point that the only compromise was to split it. Genji scribbled a note on the receipt to only use his card, though. He was the one who suggested they get dinner together, so it only felt right that he was the one to pay.

As they reached the exit and stepped outside, the rain hit harder and thunder roared in the distance, crackling as it split the skies. Now that, especially that, could prove to be an issue to Genji. He was metal, and though they tried to make him wholly weather resistant, lightning still favored to strike where it could. The first time it happened, it fried a few of his circuits in his right arm and rendered it useless until Angela hurried to have it fixed.

What a great day for him to have taken a nice stroll to the restaurant rather than getting a lift by literally any other possible way. He stared up at the clouds with a furrow to his brow, irritation striking hard at the back of his head. He did this to himself, however.

Hopefully he didn't get struck by lightning on the way back, yeah?

\------

At sight of rain, Genji seemed to be unnerved. McCree raised a brow a moment, but his body slightly jolted with a sudden roar of thunder among the skies, echoing like beating drums as light flashed jagged edges rooted in the clouds. He frowned, too, when he noticed it as well. Genji had quite a bit of metal on his body, and everyone knew that metal to lightning was like pollen is to bees. Irresistible.

"Did you get a ride here?" McCree wondered. Genji's attention snapped towards him, his eyes blinking to process the question.

"I walked..." Genji uttered, his eyes nervously glancing once more towards the thundering clouds overhead. McCree chuckled a bit at the man's expression-- like a frightened puppy.

"My place is a five minute walk and you're probably less likely to get fried by the lightning in a short walk," McCree continued. "Just stop by my place until it subsides." At this request, Genji's head perked a moment, the pause bringing a blush to McCree's cheeks. He spoke it so casually, but he genuinely meant nothing behind it. Still, to bring Genji into his home alone... they were friends, yes.

But so were Reyes and Morrison for the longest time. Friends. Until they weren't.

"That would be appreciated," Genji finally answered, his eyes poking towards the ground a bit. "Thanks."

"Yea, uh. No problem, y'know?" McCree answered in a stumble of words, turning his back towards Genji as he moved down the sidewalk with wide, quick steps. Genji followed right behind, and the walk commenced.

It was only five minutes, but McCree felt a little uneasy in the pit of his stomach-- a strange sense of nerves. Perhaps it was because he hadn't seen Genji often in a long while, especially not one-on-one. Though, they were just having dinner easily. Talking about how the others have changed in the last few years among current gossip circling around headquarters. But the walk was quiet save for the sound of pattering rain and the occasional thrumming of thunder in the clouds.

By the time the two reached McCree's apartment, they were soaked to the bone, dripping all over the carpet. McCree's hair hung over his face, forcing him to pull it back and use the water to hold it together to keep from his eyes-- and it appeared that Genji did the same. It was like his hair was slicked back intentionally, the way his face was openly exposed with the sharp edges of his facial features stark against the backdrop of a plain wall and a soaked hoodie. His skin was glowing, though it was the reflection of the light against the rain still clinging to him. But McCree stared for a long moment as Genji suddenly started to wriggle out of his sweatshirt. For a moment, McCree's breath caught, but there was a t-shirt underneath-- and what little of his torso that was exposed was just metal.

Wait. What was he even hoping for?

He shook his head and walked in. "There's cups in the cupboard above the stove if you're thirsty, and the bathroom's that way," McCree began, pointing about the apartment as he stood a few feet from the couch. He glanced down on it a moment. He thought they could perhaps just sit and watch a movie or something, but the last thing he wanted to do was soak up his couch as well. And the rain was a bit chilly, sending goosebumps along McCree's flesh.

"Uhh. You can take a shower if you want to warm up a bit," McCree remarked, turning to face Genji who was awkwardly clutching his hoodie and standing still in the center of the room. As awkward as it was, his casual stance was oddly cool. "I'll bring ya some spare clothes so you can throw those in the dryer."

"Oh, alright. Thanks," Genji answered casually with a slight bow of his head before he paused a moment, wrinkled his brows, and then headed in the direction of where McCree pointed out the bathroom earlier. The air fell quiet and uneasy around McCree, so he slipped into his bedroom and shuffled out of his wet clothes in substitute for a pair of comfy, loose black pants and a simple t-shirt. He dug out something similar-- not wanting to give something that might not fit safely around the bulk of his metal parts-- to bring to Genji.

He was walking casual and light when he paused before the door, hearing the run of the shower and the splashes that indicated someone was inside, not leaving the water to run. It was just clothes he was bringing, but his heart thumped oddly quick as he considered even walking in. His cheeks flushed, but he had to persevere regardless. Pushing in on the door, he was a bit relieved that Genji was, in fact, already in and not standing stark in the midst of the room or anything. Quietly, McCree crept towards the counter where he set the clothes and gathered the soaking ones to throw into the drier with his own in the laundry room down the hall. As he was exiting, he noted the way his shower worked-- that it had no curtain but rather distorted and foggy glass that slid open and shut. While it was only a blur of colors, McCree could see the touch of flesh and metal on the other side, blurred together and shifting around in wash.

Promptly, he shut the door and hurried for the laundry.

Careful with a pounding heart, McCree moved as slow as a snail to put the clothes in the laundry, having also grabbed his entire laundry basket to get more done in one wash. Cheaper that way. His vision blurred as his mind wandered, but he furrowed when it tried to get to far, like he was fantasizing.

Shit, maybe it was because it had been three years since and the aura about him was less bloodthirsty, but for how long had Genji looked this attractive and charming? Like, shit. They agreed to do a whole fake dating thing as a farce, but McCree didn't know how long his head would let him keep sane while playing around like that. Sure he thought of Genji as just a friend, but he thought of other men as friends, too. And he was never attracted to his friends.

Shit, indeed.

By the time he returned to his apartment, Genji seemed to have made himself at home, dressed comfortably in the clothes that McCree had set out for him. His hair was still shimmering and slicked back as he left it to dry. McCree bit his cheek and continued onward towards the couch where Genji rested, his hands tapping out something on his phone.

McCree hesitated, but then he sat as far from Genji on the couch as he could, letting there be a noticeable distance between the two. As he did so, Genji stared at it a moment and said nothing. If it bothered him, his face didn't show it.

"Maybe a movie can wait out the storm, yeah?" McCree suggested, reaching for the remote that rested in the midst of the couch. As he did, his hand grazed Genji's, the two locking eyes for a painfully prolonged second. Both retreated their reach.

"Go ahead," Genji murmured beneath his breath, the words almost inaudible as he folded his legs upwards and against his chest, his body formed together like a ball. He held onto his legs, sitting there all quiet and all. This was a habit he had for quite some time, though he looked more at peace as he kept curled up. Usually he did it when he was distressed, though McCree didn't know if he was or not right now. Perhaps he wanted to go back to headquarters and stay in his room? But McCree didn't know how to drive (honestly, who does?) and always took public transportation to get around. Perhaps he could get him the bus timetables and--

"Oh, it's an old one," Genji remarked. His eyes were glued to the TV as McCree's own gaze followed his. He had only pressed power, but the movie displayed on the screen was indeed an old one-- several decades, actually. He was a bit amazed at the CGI for the time, especially since most of the special effects in movies these days were genuine. It was dangerous stuff filming entertainment, supposedly.

"Damn. Ain't ever sat through the entirety of Titanic before," McCree remarked with a sudden keen interest in the film. "Though, I did enjoy the documentary where they deep explored the ancient thing at the bottom of the ocean. Swam through it in pressure resistant suits and all. Always thought I might want to do the same."

Genji inquired, "At what point did you watch the Titanic?"

"We uh... had movie night a couple'a times when we weren't. Y'know. Robbing and shooting things."

"I take it you all didn't finish the movie?"

"Nah. Ashe skipped it to the ending where the ship was floodin' and people were screaming. None of us understood the context to the character interactions. Also, the poor sap that froze. Girl shoulda been just as cold even if she was atop a floatin' thing. What was it? A bed?"

"I guess we can watch and find out," Genji suggested with a grin, something in his eyes brightening the room further. On the screen, it appeared that the movie had just started as it was giving what felt like character introductions through a scene of gambling.

"Ain't it kinda long?"

"The rain should be over by the time it's finished. I haven't seen this one in its entirety either. Though, I did use old movies to try and improve my English as a child. This one was too boring for me back in those days." He laughed comfortably, like he was at ease where his body sunk into McCree's old couch, legs still huddled against his chest. His expression was bright, positive. McCree couldn't help but find himself smiling, a bit glad to see that the last three years treated Genji far better than they'd done for McCree.

"Then," he said, "let's watch it."

And halfway through, Genji's body had unfurled and fallen over so conveniently that his head landed at McCree's arm-- not quite reaching the shoulder because of the distance McCree had left. Just as the iceberg was spotted, McCree sighed and scooched over a bit, shuffling the man's head at his shoulder, his breathing so close to McCree's ears that he felt as though it drowned out the sounds of the ship crashing on the screen. His heart was beating about just as loud, but far quicker than the pace of Genji's sleeping breaths.

The sun set outside, but the rain did not stop.

And Genji was still sound asleep for a good half hour after the movie ended. It was getting late, and McCree's own eyes were stinging with exhaustion a bit, the temptation to fall asleep too great for him to resist. 

But he didn't want to make things awkward when the two of them awoke leaning on one another, so he took Genji's head in his hands, so gingerly as to not wake him. Slow and steady, he lowered him on the couch before crouching and scooping him up in his arms.

He was fucking heavy. Like REALLY fucking heavy. McCree had almost forgotten that a large chunk of him was machine, meaning there was no lightweight to his body despite how swift and cunning he seemed to be. Quiet as a shadow, he could slip about undetected anywhere. Yet he was heavy as hell regardless.

The weight struggled against his arms as he took careful sidesteps into the small hall that lead to where his room rested, each movement performed with keen precision to keep from knocking Genji on the wall and waking him. His breathing remained still and calm, his body like dead weight in his arms. By the time he struggled to release Genji slowly without just letting him plop down upon the bed, it had to have been fifteen minutes of his careful movements.

While the thought of merely waking Genji had occurred to him, he didn't want to bother. The man slept so sound, so calm. McCree had seen him asleep before, but it was a fitful sleep in which he wriggled about from repetitive nightmares stemming from his traumas. He had experienced the same, before. Still did sometimes, though his dreams were often of that day they went to the building where Reyes had been. The day he saw Jack Morrison cry. The second time he saw Ana cry. The time when even Genji had such a strong sense of blood lust-- more than usual-- that it chilled him to the bone. He had been lifeless as he left the scene, and not long after, Genji had left Overwatch "for good."

McCree did not leave his room for two weeks after that, but he eventually trudged onward with the help from others, mainly Fareeha and Ana who were his family now. Reinhardt, too. Shit. He had too many parental figures, but-- none could really replaced Reyes. Nobody would dare try, but sometimes he had wished someone could fill that void. It had been three years, and he stilled dreamed of that time. But thankfully, it seemed that Genji had calmed from nightmares of his own-

Until he started shivering. McCree panicked and wrapped a blanket over him, but the unconscious furrow of his brows and curling of his body reminded him of before. Eyes flashing back and forth between his eyelids, Genji looked suddenly disturbed in a snap. McCree's heart sunk as he tried to think of what to do. Before, he had just been cautious as he woke Genji, but that never solved the issues-- just temporarily ended them until the man fell back asleep. It disrupted his rest and gave him nothing.

He needed to think quick, but all he could think of was the time he was bawling like a madman until Ana wrapped her arms about him, letting him feel the warmth of her body until he was calm and at peace, successfully abated. She was pivotal in his recovery, and the warmth of her motherly affection had helped immensely.

So McCree slipped into the bed and wrapped an arm around Genji, hugging him only slightly as to keep from waking him but to offer comfort to his unconscious self. Soon, he started to still, though he wriggled a bit for several minutes afterwards. All McCree continued doing was listening to his breaths, watching the rise and fall of his chest until the room was utterly covered in shadows and sleep consumed him for the night.

\-------

When Genji woke up, he yelped.

 

(end of chapter for real this time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I intentionally stole this from like every webtoon I read. It's just. It's so good........ Unless it's when people insert angst cause ngl I really find it difficult to power through angsty writing whether in books, shows, webtoons, etc.
> 
> No really I haven't finished a k-drama because of it. Two episodes left, but the angst put me off so it's on "timeout."
> 
> Ah but that doesn't mean I won't insert angst...... although...... I don't have any solid plans for what's next. Kinda wingin' it.


	3. 3 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji wakes up in McCree's arms, and the unexpected happens...

Genji dreamed of knives across his chest, along his arms and through the bone, down to the core of his stomach and so dangerously close to the throat that his death might have been quick had he not moved just a little bit backwards. Stabbed. Pierced. Cut. Murdered.

All by his own brother for the sake of family name-- one that Genji had no desire to cling to regardless.

But in this dream, his brother was attacking another as Genji lie in a pool of his own blood. The crimson that seeped from his own body stained the ground, wet the grass and fed the Earth. He was not even breathing, but he could see it all as his brother slid a sword forward, straight into the gut of another man. He pulled it out and wiped it clean, gazing down at the man then Genji. Something sinister about his grin left Genji uneasy, but as his brother walked away, he inched towards the man. His face. He needed to see his face to know who he was.

But before he could reach it, the dream faded forward, skipping from the tragedy to a memory of Gibraltar, of sitting on the edge of the rocks with the breeze at his back. A figure settled beside him, gazing out at the sea and the way the orange and reds of the setting sun shimmered and blended together, completely dying the blue of the sea to warmer hues. The air felt soft and the light was warm, his body soothing as the pain of a bloodied body shifted far behind him, like an iron wall blocked it off.

"Always thought this might be a great place for someone to conduct a secret love affair," a familiar voice remarked, its laugh soothing against the edge of Genji's skin, soothing down to the very marrow of his bones. Peace. This was where he first found his peace. "Would be romantic, though I have yet to catch any."

Genji could feel heat rush to his face. He murmured, "Perhaps," and nothing else.

And it felt as though this peace remained for a long while, memories fading back and forth between the blur of rest, their clarity fading from him. Calm, calm... everything felt calm. But the peace would not last forever, his body ripped from the safety of a setting sun and the shimmering sea back to a pool of blood and a corpse a few feet away.

Genji was crawling again. Onward. Forward. Keep moving. One arm pulled, his knees assisted. The stub of his right arm was of no help, and the throbbing pain blurred his vision more than the blood staining his eyes had. But he continued towards the blur of the corpse, towards the person pierced by the same blade that killed Genji himself. He should have known something wasn't right when his brother's weapon of choice had been a blade rather than a bow. Should have known, yet he never suspected to be murdered by the older brother who cared for him in his youth, even if they had gone their separate ways in how they turned out.

Closer and closer, his heart thundering in his ears, louder than any sound ever. It screeched against him. Beat beat beat. Shut up, he wanted to tell it. But it just got louder until it stopped, like the volume had blasted his ears into oblivion just as he reached the body. Genji blinked away the blur of his own blood and the blinding pain that kept his vision concealed. He blinked and blinked until clarity was right there, and the face before him shaped itself.

His body went limp at the sight of McCree's face.

And then he screamed.

\---

It sounded more like a whimper when he woke, like a trembling dog surrounded by something that held him close, warm and secure. Genji's eyes stung, but the confining feeling about him only squeezed tighter-- but it was more secure than it was confining, really. Like he was being held to keep from a cliff that fell far, far down below. Warmth soothed him as his eyes adjusted to the surrounding shadows of night's presence. He saw a dresser. A closet door. Even an end table with a lamp turned off. Something was pattering against his chest, a small and steady beat that moved too quick to be resting yet too slow to be in distress.

He remained still, realizing there were arms tight around him. For a moment, he had to recall the day's events up until the moment he slipped away in the midst of the old classic known as the Titanic. He was in McCree's apartment, check. Nobody else but McCree lived here, check. The only two people in the apartment were Genji and McCree, check. The man's breath was warm against Genji's neck.

His face flushed, heat rising to his cheeks as he refused to move a single muscle. But he couldn't hide the rapid increase in his heart rate, not with McCree's body wrapped around his. Genji's breath hitched, and he allowed himself to stir. McCree would know he was awake eventually, so he figured he could break apart before he was caught with a pounding heart and reddened cheeks-- though the latter would be difficult to see in the dark.

"You awake?" McCree whispered from behind, his voice tickling the back of Genji's ear. His body jerked a bit, accidentally pressing hard back against McCree. He stiffened again and shifted a little forward. The man did not remove his arms.

"Yeah," Genji murmured, face utterly burning as he found himself at a loss for proper words, like they were caught in his throat and he'd choke if he tried to say anything more than one or two utterances.

McCree finally shifted, however, with his arms sliding across the skin of Genji's left arm-- his own prosthetic against Genji's flesh. Sometimes he forgot McCree's arm being robotic wasn't something typical, but perhaps that was because his own body was mostly the same. The weight on the mattress shifted, and Genji let himself roll to his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Anywhere but at the man beside him.

"You were movin' about a lot," McCree explained, his voice a bit hoarse as though he, too, might have just woken up. But something told Genji that he didn't sleep at all. It was still night, however. The clock on the end table said it was about three in the morning, meaning Genji was certainly not going to returning to headquarters until tomorrow. That would be fun to explain to the handful of people who would notice his absence.

Genji dared a glance over, and even through the dark, he could match McCree's gaze for the moment he dared to hold it. His gaze snapped back to the ceiling, stomach tumbling about with a fluttering. "You used to wake me up when that happened," Genji noted, his heart unsteady from the situation. He was going to sleep on the couch if it was even going to rain all night, but now they were in the same bed.

Not to mention all the emotions he held for the man from three years ago were returning like a flower blooming overnight. It was throwing him off, and he tried to retain the methods of peace he used to calm his anger. But anger and attraction were two different things entirely, so he continued to have a mess in his mind.

"I figured that wouldn't abate things. Just temporarily end them 'til I slept and couldn't hear 'em," he answered. A sigh escaped his lips and his body shifted. From the corner of his eyes, Genji could see that McCree had turned on his side, eyes facing him. His stare felt intense, like it was burning into Genji's flesh, yet he couldn't quite make it all out through the dark. Maybe he was imagining things.

Turning as well, Genji blinked back at the man whose breath hitched. He quirked a brow. Did he imagine that? 

"Did you at least finish the movie?" Genji muttered, any proper words escaping his mind as soon as they might have popped in. If they even appeared. Things were a little dizzy, like his heart was beating so quick that he might pass out.

"Mmm," McCree hummed affirmatively. His eyes blinked slow, yet his stare remained intense. Like Medusa, his gaze turned Genji to stone. Genuinely, he could do naught but fall still with his eyes unable to leave the man's. Even if they silently agreed to go to sleep now, Genji knew he wouldn't rest a moment in the night.

"You alright?" McCree inquired, his face shifting to something unreadable beneath the shadows. "You're breathin' awful heavy."

Shit.

"I-" He choked on his words. "I'm still... startled from sleep." Genji couldn't make it out clearly, but he thought he saw a flash of disbelief cross McCree's face, though he couldn't be too sure. It only made his shoulders go tense to the point that he genuinely felt as though all of his body had been made of metal.

"Genji," he drawled, hand reaching to rub at his temple real quick. "That feels like a lie."

He could not reply because it was true. He couldn’t contain his nerves and some part of him wished he had walked home in the storm anyways and the other part of him felt a strange and fluttering joy— as though this was as far as things could ever get.

Genji did not want to move, but the state between the two of them was too intense to keep holding; so he closed his eyes, and he hoped he might slip back into sleep before things grew and his heart exploded.

But the bed shifted and McCree’s body heat was closer now, as though he slid over. His presence was close but Genji kept his eyes shut, only for him to suddenly feel the slightest of touch against his jaw, almost a hesitant hand hovering over the side of his face. He could not feign sleep because he couldn’t control his heart, so he opened his eyes instead.

He only had a moment before his lips were greeted by McCree’s— a tender and entwining kiss that Genji molded into, like all was natural and this was not a strange occurrence. He kissed him back like they had done this everyday for years. He also kissed him back as though they had been separated for years— which they had, though feelings weren’t reciprocated... and they probably still weren’t.

But shit. Even if this was McCree going with the flow and playing about, Genji couldn’t help but let his hands get caught in the tangle of his hair, the shivers running down his spine like an electrical spark.

A hand slid up the borrowed shirt, running along heat of Genji’s skin and over the cooled metal that made up half of his torso. Even as his hands ran along the edges of Genji’s machine half, McCree did not hesitate as some would. As though every bit of him was natural. And perhaps it was. This was his natural now, even if it had taken him years to accept the fact.

The two pressed right up against one another, air scarce between their lips. But when McCree’s hand slid down Genji’s lower back, it paused. And he pulled away, staring at Genji with only a couple inches between their faces. Both men were panting, yet Genji couldn’t help but feel a slight twist in his chest, like something went wrong. He did not want to pull away, to back down at any point.

“I uhh...” McCree stammered, eyes avoiding Genji’s despite their nearness. Neither moved. “I have to use the restroom.”

Genji nodded, but his hope had no time to grow as McCree quickly rolled off of the other side of the bed and added, “I’ll take the couch so you got more room for proper rest.”

Genji said nothing, and McCree appeared to hesitate a moment where he stood. But this could also have been Genji’s imagination— his hope that this wasn’t just a strange occurrence, a riding along the wave of the tension that had built. 

When McCree left the room, he did not come back. It was safe to say that Genji slept little after that, and his dreams only brightened.

—-

When McCree woke up, the laundry was in the dryer with a note from his neighbor indicating she had done such for him.

And Genji had already left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this isn't such a slow burn? almost like I really can't help myself LMAO
> 
> Also oops I said no angst last chapter but here I go............


	4. A Cold's Goin' Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking things a little too far, McCree and Genji haven't spoken in a few days... but the both of them caught colds from the rain, and people are starting to ask questions...
> 
> Also, a new mission is assigned.

Two days.

It had been two days since McCree woke up alone, his bed's sheets tousled yet vacant. Two days since he had been holding on to someone's clothes he kept wrapped nicely in a plastic bag on his counter-- just in case he could build up the courage to bring them to headquarters and return them. Oh, McCree was well aware that he sort of got himself into this by making a ridiculous bet with Fareeha, yet all the same, things would grow a bit awkward if rumors spread about the place.

McCree was in a difficult spot. One, he couldn't talk to Genji because he couldn't find him in the first place (and he was beginning to suspect that he had been avoiding him for all of that year as well, which was an issue in itself). If he brought it up to Fareeha, then he'd have to not only risk exposing himself as trying to cheat out their bet (and a wound to his dignity in the process) but there was the possibility she would tell Angela. And if she told Angela, then it was possible that she would bring up the issue with Genji which might become an overly drawn out and awkward process as the doc tried to serve as a mediator of sorts.

He could tell Ana, but-- she was too busy preparing for everything, getting all the work done that she could before the month honeymoon she was about to take. With her wedding in two months, the last thing McCree wanted was to give her another issue to stress about. He knew he was like family to her, but he was additionally aware that she was friendly with Genji as well. The situation might stress her out-- or she would lecture him and tell him to stop acting like a child and face his issues head on. Well, even if he wanted to, it wasn't like he could find Genji.

And... the man didn't reply to his texts.

But time wouldn't slow for the two of them to settle whatever the hell was going on, and that hit McCree as plain in the face as his sniffling cold when an assignment was handed to him. By the big, red "Classified" marker, he knew that it was one to be covert before, during, and after it was acted out. Additionally, these were usually assignments that required a small, more specialized team. Blackwatch had often taken on such missions, though they were usually beyond difficult. Normal jobs had a simple blue classified marker. Specialized jobs had a large, red classified marker. Blackwatch jobs had a black classified marker-- and it had been years since he picked up an assignment of that degree.

McCree had been, admittedly, wandering the halls in the slightest chance he might encounter Genji (though if the man could avoid him for a full year, he doubted it). It was then that Morrison had caught him in the halls, stopping him a moment.

"McCree," he said, voice as firm as it always was. "I have something for you. It's been a minute, but this is a very sensitive job."

First, McCree sneezed. Four times. Then he broke out into sniffles. And finally, he replied, "What type?"

"Are you ill?" the man asked, eyes narrowing as he eyed McCree up and down in a touch of suspicion.

"Just a little cold, but I should be good within a couple days. So, you gon' tell me 'bout the job or naw?"

"Must be a cold going around then," Morrison concluded, scratching at his ear. "Anyways, if you're not busy, we should head into my office to discuss it more. I'm briefing each on the team individually so there won't be any misunderstandings or mistakes. We can't afford such."

"Got it," replied McCree, who was already following the man in tow. They walked through the echoing halls and down a few corners until settling within the secluded, soundproof room. On the screens was the Overwatch symbol twirling about, bouncing from one end of the screen to another. Screensavers, of course. Jack's desk was in the midst of the room. It was a large crescent shape in the color of black, the rounded edge facing the door while the inner alcove was where his leather chair resided. He settled in comfortably, and McCree shuffled into the simple chair opposite.

And then, McCree listened while Morrison unloaded the details of the next mission.

His stomach couldn't have twisted any further than it already was, yet it did regardless-- and all he could think of was Genji.

\---

"You are an advanced cyborg, Genji," Angela scolded, arms crossed as she leaned back against the wall. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun, white coat a bit wrinkled. "How could you have caught something as simple as a cold?"

The man just shrugged, though it took everything within him to blur out the exact reason why. If anyone caught the cold that night, it was McCree. Genji would have been fine if not for... what happened next.

"I'm not sure, Angela," he answered simply, blinking up at her with little shift in her expression. "I cannot possibly be immune to all things."

"No, you're not, but the condition of your body should not be affected by being in cold rain," she explained, her voice lined with an edge of irritation. "The only possible way is if someone who was sick coughed right into your throat, and even that might not be enough unless they did it multiple times. Did you share a drink with someone who was sick? Perhaps backwash..."

Genji tensed, but he didn't say a word. Even as his chest went tight and his eyes darted to the floor, he kept silent all while Angela furrowed in question as to how Genji might have gotten sick. He wished she would drop it, but if Angela caught onto a question she couldn't answer, he knew it would bounce around her head for days until she could dig up an answer.

She stopped murmuring to herself, Genji had noticed, but his gaze was blurred as it locked to the ground beneath him. The silence grew. Angela said nothing now, and his stomach turned uneasy as he forced himself to meet her gaze.

Other than a slight narrow to her eyes and an almost imperceptible smirk to her lips, she looked rather neutral-- neither mad nor pleased. "Genji," she spoke slowly, voice rising at the edges with slight yet playful accusation. "Fareeha told me there's someone else wandering around sniffling and coughing as you are."

"Maybe they drank from the glass of the same person," he murmured, legs pressing tight against one another, hands clasped. He kept still, neutral. Or at least, he tried to. But then he started sneezing into his elbow and Angela's gaze sharpened further.

"You know, there's been a rumor going around." She began to pace about the room, arms held at her lower back as her chin lifted in a playfully cocky manner. "Someone claims to have seen you and Jesse at a restaurant together."

"Is there evidence to back up this claim?" he tried.

"You challenging it with evidence is enough. If there wasn't something odd behind such a meeting, you'd have admitted to it. If there was, your denial would be flustered and panicked," she replied with a sigh. "But you're holding awfully still, which only leads me to believe things did not go well. If I recall, you were a professional at avoiding him for an entire year."

He didn't want to tell her, especially since she might tell Fareeha about the situation. He was close with Angela as she was the woman who saved his life and kept him alive even now, but she and Fareeha was inseparable to the point that she would tell her every little bit of her life. No secrets, just trust. But this wasn't a secret to be shared, and he knew Angela would keep it if he asked. But what if it slipped out? Though the woman was rather an expert on holding information from just about anyone (except Fareeha, of course).

"Angela, I don't think I can ever watch the Titanic again."

She paused. "What the hell does that mean?"

And so, he told her.

\---

Mindlessly, McCree wandered the halls, trying to think about how the upcoming mission may go. There he was, wallowing in a confliction of feelings that he had no idea how to resolve when he couldn't find Genji, yet now...

Now they were going to the last place McCree would ever want to bring Genji. Back to Hanamura in Japan, the very place he grew up in. The place where he died.

Morrison explained the situation to McCree, though it could never be in that direct, militaristic way in which Reyes had done it. Morrison had the personality of a leader, of someone who could command armies, but the way Reyes spoke... there felt to be more emotion behind it despite its neutrality, though McCree wasn't certain any of those emotions had been positive. Near the end of Blackwatch, everyone wasn't on the best terms with Reyes. Things were getting out of hand as the public started to learn of it, hence its sudden disbandment, but then... But then Reyes and dozens of others were killed in an explosion-- one that should have killed Morrison, too, had he not been in an inconvenient train derailment situation on his way there.

Had he taken a personal vehicle, he might have died there too-- but he was feeling humble. He wanted to feel a little normal before a meeting that could have disbanded Overwatch as a whole. But everyone there died and Morrison and Ana barely kept the place together and rebuilt its purpose to keep as it once was but at a much lesser degree. They weren't as global as they had been before. Their power was more limited.

Talon would consume the world before Overwatch could stop it if something wasn't done, yet here McCree was. Worrying about a stupid kiss and getting a date before a wedding. Here he was, worrying about something so little when there were bombs being smuggled out of Japan as he wallowed, headed to unknown destinations by the hands of Talon. The Shimada clan was suspected as having a hand as a mediator between this deal, their own agents spotted with known Talon members all the while bombs were being reported missing just a couple miles away. It was fishy, and there was only so much reach that Overwatch still held. It kept rather small and domestic in the States right now, with small branches at other facilities that hadn't fallen into ruin and were ransacked three years back.

They were still rebuilding, though. Trying-- working on things. And McCree was watching the Titanic and embracing someone with no certainty to his own emotions. Could he even afford to worry about these things? It made his stomach twist just thinking about him, illness burning at the back of his throat, like bile threatening to spew.

It was to be a small team that would slip into Hanamura. A team that would don masks at a Shimada event-- a place where all wore masks as to keep their identities concealed. This was for legal purposes, of course, and various other social and political connections preventing the reveal of faces. Only those of the clan kept themselves revealed, meaning Hanzo Shimada would be there. Genji would see the face of a brother who had torn him apart with little mercy. A man who had killed him-- almost, had Overwatch not been in Japan during the brutal tragedy.

Because it required Shimada infiltration, Genji was automatically put up for the job as he held the most insider information, though bits could be outdated as it had been years since he was allowed to step foot in such a place-- not that he ever desired to after that fateful night. Regardless, Morrison considered his knowledge valuable. Then there was McCree, someone who had experienced high risk jobs often, someone that could be counted on. He was having his doubts on that reasoning, however, given that his biggest concern had nothing to do with smuggled bombs.

Then there would be Angela, who would remain behind the scenes to ensure the safe extraction after the mission was completed. Additionally, she would be the eyes at the door, serving a purpose a little different from the usual. But she had wanted to go with, especially since there was a possibility of things going wrong with Genji's return-- and she was one of few who could help keep him intact. She had raised him from the dead, practically, so it only made sense that she could do it again.

But finally, there was someone that McCree felt no warmth towards, someone whose skin was like ice and whose heart beat regardless. She had shot Ana in the eye and was responsible for her disappearance for months. It wasn't until after the explosion that killed Reyes that Ana made it back, but she was not alone. Instead, she returned with the very woman who killed her husband, a valuable asset to Overwatch. Gerard Lacroix was dead, and his wife, Amelie, was believed to be the same as she had disappeared. But then evidence showed she killed him. And then she appeared under Talon's name as a sniper of pale, tinted skin.

And she fucking shot Ana's eye out, which McCree would never forgive her for, even if it had been a case of severe brainwash that the woman was still struggling to overcome. Her mental state was nowhere near perfect, the nightmares hitting her as hard as about any other Overwatch agent. Regardless, McCree avoided her-- as did most. Truly, she had few allies within these walls, but it did not push her away as many secretly hoped it would. She had been inside Talon, and she was their only insider as of now. 

It brought chills to his skin to consider working alongside her, but she was to be their eyes on the inside while Mercy kept watch outside of the property. If things were to go wrong for McCree and Genji on the inside, they would have to trust that Amelie could ensure their safe extraction. Both she and Angela were responsible, but McCree trusted only half of them.

His stomach turned. It came to the point where he was in a quiet hall, mind swirling yet empty all the same-- a strange contradiction that twisted at his insides. There was no one way to think, no certain conclusion he could ever come to. He knew he could pull himself together by the time they flew out there, yet his bones still shook with all the fears that built up. Funny how more than half concerned only Genji, the other few being his discomfort with Amelie and the rest being the situation itself-- bombs and all.

At the point where he was nearly going to chew his lip right off, a voice said, "Jesse?"

His head shot up, shoulders tensing yet insides relaxing at the sight of Ana, dressed in a mix of black and blue with her white locks pulled aside in a braid as always. Concern lined her features, eyes going tender as she offered him a hand. He hadn't realized he was on the floor, and he took her hand.

It took only a moment for him to reach forward and wrap his arms around her small frame, engulfing her in an embrace. She met it easily, hand patting slow against his back. "You don't need to tell me, but know that I'm here to listen," she whispered beside his ear, the familiarity of his voice warming the cold breeze about him, soothing the tension that built.

McCree nodded, but he did not tell her. He couldn't. Not right now when the last thing he wanted to do was make Ana worry. That he was already concerning her now bothered him, but God did her embrace feel nice, like that of a mother he never truly had. "Another time," he answered, and his voice came out hoarse. He swallowed heavy and tried again. "Another time, Ana."

She only nodded as the two peeled apart from one another. Ana placed her hand at McCree's cheek and brushed her thumb vertical, her own head tilted with a smile to her lips. "I will always be here for you, Jesse. You need only ask, and I will be there."

"Thank you," he murmured. "Truly."

In the end, he couldn't tell her a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got confusing and rambled a bit in this chapter on backstory stuff and probably contradicted things I said earlier so sorry about that I'm just running on like, Not enough sleep.
> 
> Any of yall ever like. It's like you slept 5 hours and it's AWFUL like people who sleep 4 hours and theyre like eh it's not bad and they're fine but if you don't sleep at least 8 hours you're horribly exhausted? Idk I'm just someone who needs proper sleep and I haven't slept well in the last few days and my body is sore and bruised from work so I'm just. out here. pain.
> 
> also in other news, to anyone reading this that plays pc overwatch (na server) at around low/mid gold in comp... if you see someone named "Cucci" who says the weirdest fuckin' shit in chat-- it's probably me. Anyways, have a nice day everyone! <3


	5. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji knows of their mission in Hanamura, but he holds himself in the present to keep from fading away to that day. He's changed. Found himself and who he is. He'd much rather worry over McCree than a potential family reunion in the works.
> 
> But it haunts him regardless-- and he isn't the only one haunted by the past's darkness.

Angela sighed. “I always knew Jesse was a bit clueless when it came to things like this,” she said with a hand massaging her temples. Genji sat still, his face still a little red from recounting the situation to Angela. “He’s smart, don’t get me wrong, but he’ll get flustered if anyone reciprocates his charm and totally oblivious of genuine interest.”

“I know,” Genji remarked. “How do you think I’ve kept from being outed for so long?”

Angela nodded. The two sighed, and then she quirked a brow. “Have you spoken with Jack yet?”

His head fell, but the expression on Genji's face betrayed his feelings. Often, he could keep himself calm and composed, almost unreadable, but it felt the opposite lately. Too many of his weak spots were sprouting up again, making him almost wonder if he should have stayed in Nepal a bit longer before returning to Overwatch. Yet he was strangely glad he returned regardless. This place to him had become like a home, even if things felt different after Blackwatch disbanded. Even if his home had cracks in the foundation-- it was still far more a home than Hanamura ever was.

"Yes," he answered, entwining his fingers before tilting up to gaze at her. Softness lined her features, her pale skin glowing beneath the light. An angel, she was often nicknamed. Perhaps she was an Angel, for she had practically revived Genji in a state that shouldn't have been salvageable. For a minute, he resented her. He's since come to appreciate her, even if his life and body would never be the same. Perhaps that was best.

"You appear more concerned about Jesse than you are about returning to Japan," she noted, arms crossing. Angela began to pace the room a bit, steps clicking against the white tiles of the sterile floor. "It only worries me that the realization may settle in later, perhaps closer to our arrival or even within the Shimada estate itself. If that may be a problem for you, do share now. We cannot afford to get caught up in something like this, especially with Talon involved."

"They're the biggest thorn in our side," Genji sighed. "I know. It just... doesn't sit well with me. I do not know how I will react when we arrive in Hanamura, but I believe I can see Hanzo without the amount of vengeance I once desired. He had reason for what he did, even if I do not believe it justified it."

Angela paused and turned his way. "Yet you still seem worried. Confused, almost."

Genji nodded and uttered, "I do not know why he would involve himself with Talon."

"Like Overwatch, the Shimada clan is not as powerful as it once had been, though it is not weak either. Perhaps he is considering an alliance with Talon to secure power?" Angela suggested with a shrug, her words holding simple suggestions that left for Genji to build upon.

"My brother and I were not very close, so I cannot say for sure that he would not do such, but something doesn't feel right about it."

Her lips pursed while her shoulders sagged as though burden hung over her. Quietly, she whispered, "I don't think someone who could kill you would have any difficulty teaming up with Talon."

This made Genji stand, his eyes hanging heavy with exhaustion, his heart tensing with a shadowing, tightening pain. There was the confliction again, the feeling twirling in his gut as though he were tumbling down a cliff, down, down, down. Nearing the jagged edge, the end awaiting. His mind swirled beyond him. Why? Why? Why would his brother do it, leave him to die-- to drown in his own blood, choking for air and life. Begging a God in which he does not believe, praying to gods that don't exist. Genji had wanted to live, just not the life the clan wanted of him. He could have been exiled, sent away with his name stripped of him. But instead, his brother sliced him apart and watched him bleed. Let him die. He walked away, wiping his sword clean of the guts he spilled.

Hanzo didn't know that Genji still lived, however. He wonders what his brother would say to know he was alive. Did he regret it, killing Genji? Was there even an ounce of hope for the man? It bothered him, and the thought that the clan might be associating itself with an organization that knew nothing but corruption... it twisted his insides. He did not know what to think, so he left the room.

"I'll speak with you another time, Angela," he said before slipping out of the door, his steps silent as though he were a ghost in these halls. In some way, he was.

\---

The Overwatch headquarters were located at a cliff side that overlooked a large lake, almost imitating what they had at Gibraltar before things went awry. Genji recalled climbing about these rocks and settling atop ledges to watch as the sun shifted about the sky. Sometimes McCree would accompany him. Sometimes even Ana would, but not as often (not that she couldn't climb-- that's her expertise-- but rather she was so busy). Now, the edge was more of a steep drop, the building taking up a large portion of land up until that point. It was a large facility, and there were measures in place to keep the cliff's edge from ever being an issue.

Genji ignored the signs that said "Do Not Enter" at the small, grassy field that lingered around the edge of the land where rocks broke apart into shimmering blue waters below (and probably other rocks waiting to pierce any who fall). He allowed his steps to shuffle through the grasses, unable to feel much sensation other than machinery indicating he was touching something. The feeling of hands against skin-- of anything on his flesh-- had become foreign. He had half his torso, an arm, and his head. Among some other things, of course, but not even Angela would tell him what percentage was cybernetic. Considering he could still eat, he figured his insides weren't all wires. He didn't really know, but he found that it wasn't necessary to know-- just to be.

So here he sat at the edge of a cliff with only the sensation of the shirt against his torso accompanying him among the soft winds and gentle waters. Alone. Silent. He just sat, basking in the emptiness. He thought to meditate, to ignore all else around him, but he had made it a half hour before he was yet again haunted by it all, by the pain of the past and the sharp bite into the future's jaws.

Grass shuffled from behind, and Genji's head perked up, alert. Someone was approaching, their steps careful and controlled, yet elegant even through the field. He remained seated, even as he felt a cool aura pause a moment behind him.

"Care if I join you?" a voice sang, its edges holding an accent that not many in Overwatch had. There was no need, yet Genji craned his head back to lock eyes with a woman who'd taken the life of her own husband.

"You are welcome to," Genji told Amelie, gesturing a hand for the unstable cliff side beside him. Her body furled cross legged, her elongated limbs moving as though every movement were like a dance. If he recalled correctly, she used to do ballet. Now her presence radiates a chill, like she was concealed in a layer of frost, enough so that her skin was a pale-bluish color, though it seemed to be regaining color lately. Not a lot, though.

"Convenient that Overwatch has both an ex-Talon member and a member of the Shimada Clan available for this trip," she remarked, chin jutted forward as she looked to the blue of the skies, eyes focused on the passing shapes of the shifting clouds. Her heartbeat was dim, low. Genji could often hear another's heartbeat in silence, but Amelie's was hard to catch, almost as though it wasn't really there.

Genji nodded though Amelie wasn't looking his way. She was enamored with the view, something in her eyes appearing a touch of longing yet a lingering emptiness, almost as though she was searching for something that she could never find. Genji felt his throat tighten a bit. What even was he searching for?

"How do you do it?" he asked her, turning his gaze. Still, she did not match his glance but rather gazed over the skies and the waters.

"I am not whole," she answered simply, her words falling stark in the air. "Such is a dull pain, as though it has been decades since my hands took the life of my beloved. I hold the memories still, ever so clear. The emotions within me were void, and they have not struck me even with delay."

"Then it doesn't hurt, or bother you?" he inquired. She shook her head.

"No, it does hurt sometimes. Not often, but I dream of him often. I find that thinking of the good moments in my past are far more horrifying than the act itself, for it shows me what I lost. What they took from me when they thought they could take my mind. I regret him, but only him. I cannot feel remorse for the other lives I took. 'Tis how it happened, and I do not care to go back and change it."

"I often wonder if I believe the same-- that I would not change things. I find myself at home here more than Hanamura ever offered me, yet the horror haunts my nights and creeps in the back of my mind everlastingly. I do not understand how you could deal, though I suppose you, too, cannot understand yourself."

It was then that she turned to him, her dark hair swept about her shoulders rather than in its usual ponytail. Something looked wild in her dark eyes, almost intense. Genji couldn't tell if she was even breathing, for her heart went silent. "I long to feel again," she admitted. "It comes in waves but rarely remains. Nonetheless, all that I did under the grip of Talon haunts me now. I am reminded of my deeds as I pass Ana. As few deign to speak to me. My past is a ghost that will not release its grips. I will forever be haunted by it, and I have accepted this."

Genji tensed again, feeling a resonance in her words. He, too, felt as though his dying self-- the ghost of who he once was-- was haunting him. Bloodied and choking, desperate for life. He would hover over the Genji he was now, ignoring the fact that he held his life. It felt as though he betrayed the past him who had wanted to continue the life he had then, but the more he thinks of his youth, the less he desires a return. Yet he enjoyed it, once. Or so he thought.

"I say I feel the same, yet my mind conflicts me. Do I wish to forgive or to forget? It cannot be both."

The woman sighed as her arms extended behind her, back arching as she adjusted herself to better look at the sky ahead. After a minute, she was lying in the grasses, ignoring the way nature clung to her long locks of hair, grasses poking through beside her cheek. "I do not believe you can forget. I will never forget, and I never forgive even myself for what I have done. Your brother may be the same, though I know little of your family dynamics. I have doubts that he does if you were not close."

Then, he sunk. Amelie did not believe that Hanzo might be regretful, yet she admitted to knowing little of the family insides. She was no longer a part of Talon, so she knew nothing of their current dealings with the Shimada Clan-- or what it meant for the future, what it could indicate for Hanzo's present.

"In two days, if you see a red light target you, reflect it at an angle," Amelie requested, her body unfurling in all grace as she stood tall, her limbs extending longer than his own. Didn't help that he lost an inch or two in his being reconstructed from a heap of bleeding flesh. "If you do not reflect at an angle, you may kill me."

He frowned as he looked up at her expressionless gaze, the chill around her worsening. "And why are you to trust me?" he wondered.

"It is not you I trust but rather I am trying to earn trust," she remarked, a sigh slipping from her lips. "Isolation has become my greatest enemy here. Ana said I should try and make friends. She suggested I start with you."

He blinked, cocked his head, and then offered her a grin. It was warm, and she reacted with a quickened blink, almost as though she didn't know how to respond. Then, Amelie grinned in turn, though it looked more like a smirk-- perhaps unintentional. Emotion. At least she was showing some of it.

"Now if you may excuse me, I have grass to brush from my hair," she remarked, her steps continuing to glide back towards headquarters, the sun's light reflecting against her back. She, who looked like an enigmatic emphasis of the cold at night, was glowing bright with warmth, like she had more within her than she could even imagine. He heard Amelie was a bright and talented woman once, someone who loved her husband genuinely.

Nobody understood why she killed him-- just as Genji could not understand why Hanzo nearly killed him.

He began to wonder if there was more to the tragic story that haunted the dark of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I really like widowmaker and also I didn't want to copy paste the accent in her name so I just didn't include it. Anyways-! This is a little intermission chapter where I can insert one of my favorite characters into this LOL.
> 
> Also, I have no update schedule forreal. Just posting whenever the hell I feel that motivation (which is STRANGELY often considering I used to be in a horrific writing dry spell because of depression some months ago hehe)
> 
> anyways enjoy all 5 of you who read this! <3


	6. "Home"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji, McCree, Amelie, and Angela head out to Hanamura, Japan to investigate Talon's possible connection with the Shimada Clan. While on the job, however, McCree takes this opportunity to try and patch things with Genji.
> 
> Meanwhile, Amelie meets a new face, and Angela experiences tech issues...

"McCree," Genji said plainly, his heart pressing hard against his rib cage and beating against the walls as if to threaten bursting. "I think now is not the time." The closet was basked in shadows, only a sliver of light slicing from beneath the door, giving a vague orangish glow to the enclosed space. Linens lined the shelves and boxes tightened the floor space, yet the two of them were cramped within; the door was shut behind them as chattering echoed far in the distance, almost inaudible like a wind's whisper against the window.

"Figured we got 'nough information," McCree answered, his body shifting as though he probably shrugged. It was dim in the room, but he could make out vague gestures even so. Had he been wearing the entirety of his suit, perhaps he could see clearly-- though he was trying to look as human as possible, so his clothes covered up every bit of his robots save for his neck. Maybe people would think it a style, he had figured.

"You know we have to get far more, McCree," Genji said flatly. His face flushed as he felt himself cornered. "Should we leave now, then we may need to prolong our stay in Hanamura." Shut up, heart. Seriously, he was so close against him that there was no way McCree couldn't hear it. "I do not... wish to stay long." Well, it wasn't entirely being in Hanamura that was bothering him but rather this small closet where McCree's back was to the door so he was blocking Genji. And Genji wanted to get this mission over with to avoid staying so close to where his brother-- who had pretty much murdered him-- was. But in this moment he wanted to get away from confronting the awkward encounter that he didn't understand-- to run from the feelings he held all those years ago when he was angsty and hurt and McCree was his only solace.

Oh, Zenyatta would be disappointed to see him in such a mess, but he always lost concentration when it came to certain circumstances-- One being McCree and the other being the situation with his brother. Of course, these two were happening right now and it was super overwhelming. On one hand, there was possible evidence that Talon was hiding under the disguise of working with the Shimada Clan when in reality they were using this event as a reason to contact their true "partner in crime." This needed to be investigated, definitely, and it did not help that the comms were down, so the two were completely blindsided as to what was going on with Angela or Amelie.

On the other hand, he couldn't stop the human in him from overreacting to being in near vicinity to McCree because part of him thought maybe something was possible but the other part winced at the very thought of what happened that night and he was avoiding it all and he knew it was unhealthy but--

"Breathe," McCree said, snapping Genji into the moment. He couldn't make out the details of his face, but his voice pulled him to Earth once more, sending the chaos of his mind to the back burner. Oh, Zenyatta would really be disappointed. Time to meditate a lot more, then. "Now," he continued, "We need to have a discussion, don't we?"

He raised a brow at McCree, but he realized the man wouldn't see the gesture. Instead, he sighed. Perhaps he shouldn't have avoided him the last few days and had gotten this over with because Genji would not be in this situation had he stopped running as his past self would. Again, disappointment.

As he parted his lips to speak, the words choking at his throat but inching their way out, there was a pair of footsteps that forced his lips shut. A moment passed and they stopped in front of the door. "Oh I do hope this is the bathroom," a voice spoke, words bumbling out in a soft whisper to oneself. It was a woman, and she was speaking Japanese, thus causing McCree to fall silent in confusion.

The door wiggled. Genji's heart stopped. His face was exposed, looking upon the door. Whoever might walk in would see him, and there was no risking the chance of recognition.

Light peeked in, so Genji pushed forward and spun, twisting the two of them around in a quick shuffle as to keep his back concealed. Their masks were on the ground, faces clear to see, so there was only concealing himself with his back to whoever entered-- though he would expose McCree slightly.

But Genji's pushing forward was a clash of their faces, lips connecting once more. Part of him was pouring out his frustrations and emotions of years passed, and McCree rode along with it as the door pushed open and a woman gasped. "My apologies!" she cried before promptly slamming the door, leaving the two alone. Quickly, Genji pushed aside and blinked heavily, letting himself adjust to the darkness as it settled once more.

Words should have passed, but silence passed. Breathes hovered in the air but no words emitted. Genji steeled himself, and he parted his lips yet again--

Aaaaaannnddddd the comms came back online, followed with, "Get out of there quick," in a French accent, the command almost hurried. "There is a possibility that you will have to encounter Hanzo Shimada, and I have the information we need."

"How so?" Angela called from her end. "I've been stuck without power for a good several minutes. What's going on in there?"

"Security threat," Amelie answered quick. There seemed to be background noise from where she was, a quick shuffling and fuzz and perhaps another voice. "Security is de-masking everyone. Someone leaked that Overwatch is within the premises."

Genji tensed. "Understood," he replied into the comms. "I know my way around to get us out undetected."

"Well hurry over lest I have to repair all three of you next!" Angela hissed, her voice struck with irritation. He could only guess the connection between them all going down was a pain, yet Amelie seemed indifferent to that happening-- more so worried about what was next. She spoke with rush but it fell cold and demanding, but there was a hint of care deep within it.

McCree bent for the masks and tossed Genji his as they burst through the door.

Part of Genji was relieved there was an interruption again, but it didn't still the unease throbbing hard in his chest. Nonetheless, he had no time to dwell on it.

In a hurry, the two rushed around a corner, only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of the last man they wanted to run into.

Genji went utterly still as he locked eyes with none other than his older brother, Hanzo.

\---

(A Couple Hours Earlier)

Genji and McCree were dressed nice as should be for such an event, and considering there were often people of varying nationalities, style of dress largely varied-- though was still considered to be on the finer side. McCree kept with a suit, perhaps the most plain person there, whereas Genji decided to wear robes typical of Nepali monks-- something he would don often when alongside Zenyatta, though an outfit rather unfitting for the event. While he might stand out, he knew well enough that much of what others wore to these events were borderline ridiculous-- and his suspicion was confirmed when the two of them walked in to see a woman wearing a wig made of feathers. McCree opened his lips to speak, but he clamped it shut when Genji tugged his arm towards the other way, keeping their masks secured.

They were within a grand hall, the building rather empty save for the people wandering about and a few tables scattered with small appetizers and drinks resting atop for any to grab at. Most wore masks that revealed their lips, enough so that they could drink without revealing themselves-- but those who concealed everything kept to themselves, or even drank from a straw stuck under their mask. Genji had always laughed at this, and it was amusing to see they were still doing it.

Red pillars held up the second floor, which was built more like a balcony as those above could look down upon those below. The walls looked like paper screens, floral designs painted atop. Familiarity rang through the air, and it tensed in Genji's throat as he forced himself to ignore the details of the place. This particular part of the property was never one he visited often, primarily because he was never a fan of these gatherings-- and eventually, his father had told him to stop coming altogether. He was willing on that part, especially considering he wanted nothing to do with the business aspect of his family, nothing to do with the unscrupulous deals made under the shadows of night. He just liked the play about, but then his brother murdered him... almost.

"So... What're we supposed to be doin' exactly?" McCree questioned in a whisper beside Genji's ear. His instincts forced him to remain calm, but his heart sent chills down his spine. They were working, he had to remind himself. This was work.

"Listen. If anyone tries to talk to you, remember to not give a name but the fake occupation crafted for you," Genji replied to him, reaching for a class of alcohol as if he could even take a sip. He needed something to grasp, a solid object in hand to keep him grounded in a place that made his body feel as though it was floating dead in the water. He was concealed entirely in robes and a mask, not even his hands without gloves. The last thing these people needed was to question why a robotic monk was here. A monk, fine. He could play it off as his disguise-- as was his intention-- but not quite his identity. Again, there was a woman wearing a feathered wig. At this point, the style wasn't too important so long as it didn't seem shabby. These silk robes were not shabby-- that he was sure of.

"Right. But uh... ain't most of these people speakin' Japanese?"

"Not all. Get close for your comms to record. I may translate later." Genji frowned. "Were you not listening on the ride here?"

"Don't tell the doc' but I fell asleep," McCree admitted, his face turning towards the floor. Genji couldn't see his expression, but he suspected it was a little smug rather than ashamed. He pretended not to suspect.

"I can hear you," Angela said through the comms, her voice biting with a touch of irritation. McCree laughed nervously, and the two men intentionally said nothing to the woman in response and continued wandering about the room, glancing upon the various people wandering. Genji kept high alert, his eyes searching for anyone that even remotely looked like they could be Hanzo. His heart sped at any who matched the vaguest definition of him, but he was aware that his brother would not be here so early.

"So," McCree drawled. "Walk 'round. Listen. If I can understand anythin' then good. If not, Angela will have it recorded in case?"

"Yes," she answered before Genji could so much as open his lips to speak. "I am working with the translation device on the computers here. And-- my is that a cockroach?" McCree and Genji exchanged glances as they were listening to the woman's words. "Oh, it's just a shadow that looks like it's crawling. At least it appears so--"

"Shall I snipe your shadow for you, instead of paying attention to what is at hand?" Amelie inquired over the comms, her words drawling with a touch of humor to them. She could hold emotion sometimes, Genji knew, but he wondered how often it could even be conveyed.

"Enough," she sighed. "Genji and McCree split up and listen around. Genji you would do better at speaking, but McCree..." She sighed again, and Genji could practically sense the furrow in McCree's brow. "Stick to your story. You listened for that part, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now, wander as close as you can to nearby conversations and eavesdrop. Don't specifically target suspected talon agents, however. They will catch on if you're only wandering about their conversations. Oh, and do not get caught as someone wandering and eavesdropping in the first place."

"Right, right. This ain't my first time."

"It's been a minute, Jesse. I can only give you so much faith."

"Thanks doc," he murmured before continuing to wander off. Genji cast him a look as he nodded his head, hand reaching as though to tip a hat that wasn't there. Awkwardly he snatched his hand back to his side and turned around to hide his embarrassment. Genji chuckled a bit, and then he wandered into the crowd to listen. As nervous as he was, there was a sense of relief each time he didn't see his brother or so much as hear his voice.

And if he so much as saw McCree's mask looking in his direction, he was certain to glance away. Now was not the time, after all.

\---

"Did you catch that?" Jesse wondered from the other end of the comms as accented Japanese was being filtered through the translation system. Angel kept cooped up in her chair with her legs crossed, consistently glancing towards the front windows of the van where she remained in a back alley. The machinery was connected to a nearby restaurant's power system on the same grid as the Shimada residence, and thankfully, said restaurant wasn't open at this time of night.

The words filtered through, but her own mind couldn't make sense of some of the translations as they came fragmented and choppy, the accents throwing it a little off. "It's coming through strange because of their accents. Stay long enough to hear what the other man replies," Angela ordered, tapping away at the keys to save all files regardless, ensuring that no audio was discarded. If anything, Genji could listen in on it later, considering he wasn't in their private comms channel right now to keep the chatter from his ears. Amelie was here, too, however. So essentially, Genji was alone in his ears for a moment. She hoped that would be alright, though he wasn't pinning anything through audio anyways.

The words continued, but this time, the Japanese felt more native, much more clean in speech that the robotic translation could pick up on it far better than it could accents. Angela noted to inquire about the machinery back at Overwatch and considering an upgrade in its translation abilities. The system was already out of date by a few years, though they hadn't the funds to do anything about it quite yet. It would have to do, but the inconsistency of their results was making her stomach tense. Oh, she really hated these missions, especially when she was on the field but not really.

A combat medic. Cramped in a strange white van filled with machinery in a back alley behind a restaurant in Hanamura, Japan. Quite the setting! Now it would only be far more enjoyable if Fareeha was perhaps here, but her missions were far less discreet. After Blackwatch's disbandment, Moira had slipped under the radar when she left Overwatch. So, essentially, there was no medic to accompany them on such confidential missions save for Angela. Ah, what a good agent she was. She would have to pester Jack to buy her a drink sometime-- or a dozen, considering she was a bit out of her element.

Words filtered in, and Angela read the translations. As it continued, her eyes widened with a curious gaze. Then, they intensified as she began to write everything down as well, careful that there was no way this information might find itself deleted into oblivion.

"That man. We need to find out who he is," Angela said hurriedly into the comms. "They aren't directly dealing with the Shimada clan but rather a powerful Japanese businessman. This event is an excuse to let them meet without suspicion to continue discussions. Be careful, McCree, that they don't catch you-"

Everything flashed a moment before her eyes, like a quick flashing strobe light, before darkness poured over her, keeping every ounce of the inside concealed in shadows. Angela blinked, then said in to her comms. "McCree? Amelie? Genji?"

No response.

Her heart skipped, eyes adjusting to the immense darkness that was broken only by a dim light beyond the alleyway that lit up the street. Her heart raced as she grabbed for her pistol and slipped outside of the truck, steps cautious as she approached where the wires connected into the electric grid. It still hummed with moving energy, yet darkness emanated from the van and silence took hold of the comms.

Something shuffled, and she quickly retreated into the van. Maybe she could figure it out from inside? Her mind whirled with possibilities, but she could only do so much from where she stood. Genji and McCree could handle themselves, and Amelie was competent as well.

It was okay. Everything was okay...

\---

Everything was not okay, and Amelie was certain of this when she felt a gun pressed against the back of her skull. Normally, she was quick to detect presences around her, their body heat evident against the cool of her skin. This time, it was as though the person appeared out of thin air.

She retreated from her sniper, the stranger’s gun following as she pushed back. They were atop a ledge on one of the buildings across the courtyard before the main greeting hall of the Shimada clan’s estate. Within, meetings were being held. McCree and Genji were collecting information while Amelie perched here and Angela crowded in a van in some back alley. How did someone get up here without a trace?

“If you’re going to kill me, it’d be easier that you get it over with,” she muttered, her voice sharp in its sigh. Her ease at a gun to her head bothered her more than the gun itself, for it only confirmed she was truly messed up still. Her survival instincts were twisted, but wasn’t her worrying over this heartlessness a piece of emotion in itself? Contradictory as it was, she forced herself to think so for years.

“Kenshiro Yousuke,” a voice replied, the sound feminine in pitch and Spanish in accent. This brought Amelie’s brows against one another, creased in question of who was holding her at gun point.

“I take it that isn’t your name?” She quipped, voice still holding cold. “Pretty voices don’t have bland names.”

“I always wondered what the legendary ‘Widowmaker’ was up to these days,” the voice purred in response, a slight chuckle upon her lips. “The man’s name is Kenshiro Yousuke, and no, Talon could not involve the Shimada clan despite how hard we’ve tried.”

Her nose wrinkled. “‘We,’” Amelie echoed.

“Unfortunately, I was recruited shortly after your departure, little spider.”

“Do not call me as you please,” she hissed. “And who are you to speak of me at all?” Amelie turned her head, ignoring the gun pointed right at her face after she did so. She locked eyes with a woman with flowing brown hair down one shoulder, the other half shaved with purple accents. Her skin was a smooth brown, eyes just as deep and rich in color. Shadows danced over her face, concealing the very details of her appearance.

“Sombra,” she said. “But you needn’t worry. This gun is a safety precaution.”

“Why tell me the man’s name?” Amelie was suspicious, every ounce of her twisted instinct warning her to find a way out— to misbelieve this woman and ditch the area quick.

“Talon is a tool for me,” she admitted with ease, shrugging as though using one of the largest criminal organizations in the world to her own advantage was no big deal. “Make connections on my own. Hack their systems undetected here and there. Kill a few people, sure, but you know how it is.”

Amelie frowned. She did know— and she did not regret it. But she had little choice as the organization used her body against her, twisted her mind to kill her husband and countless more. This woman was clearly working of her own will, yet she shrugged off a few lives as nothing.

“You might not believe me, but smuggling bombs isn’t my forte. In fact I’d have to hide my being pleased if an organization such as Overwatch tore this deal down.”

This prompted a deeper from from Amelie yet a raise of her brow. Curiosity struck. “You expect me to believe such nonsense?”

“I don’t expect you to, but I handed you the guy, didn’t I? Check the information, and you’ll thank me later.”

Silence. The woman, Sombra, chuckled.

“Such a mystery,” she drawled with a rich taste to her voice. “I’ll return your communication with your friends in a few minutes. For now, I’d like you to think of what I told you. We will meet again, spider, so careful how you speak of me to your comrades.”

Amelie parted her lips to speak, but after a blink, the woman had vanished from sight, even her movement utterly silenced. She glanced about cautiously, but inevitably so, there was nobody left.

In the meantime of the few minutes until the comms would supposedly be restored, she reached for her goggles that had been charging this entire time— now ready for her to get a better view within the building. Eye against the scope, infra-sight activated, she watched through walls the heat signatures of all who wandered about the premises.

She raised a brow when she spotted Hanzo Shimada away from the main rabble, walking through a hall so near to two huddled figures. One was fully human, but the other had a mingled heat signature. She could only guess that it was McCree and Genji— so close to the troublesome brother.

Her eyes rolled, tongue clicking, and just like that— the comms returned.

“Get out of there quick,” she hissed.

—-

Well, McCree had been hoping that they wouldn’t run into Hanzo. In fact, he had been more keen on buddying up with Talon over Genji’s older brother.

Yet they turned the corner and the man was before them, face unmasked and as stern as Genji described it— as stark as pictures displayed it.

Anger boiled beneath McCree’s skin at the mere sight of the man, head snapping to the side to glance at Genji.

The man did not shift, and it felt as though he was holding his breath. Without so much as a movement, Genji locked eyes with his brother for the first time in years— but Hanzo had no clue who he was.

McCree held his own breath, stomach dropping at what might very well follow in this moment.

He hoped nothing would go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm setting up potential spiderbyte in case I want to write a little spin off from this. at a later date.....
> 
> also my current writing project (not this, ofc) includes so many fight scenes that im not inclined to put many, if any, into this so it'll just be chill and low key for the most part ghfghfgf 
> 
> note: i have no fucking idea how long this will go on for


	7. Who Doesn’t Love a Family Reunion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops! Looks like avoiding Hanzo wasn’t entirely possible.

Boooooooard up the housereee babebety

The two froze where they stood, masked yet entirely aware that they were facing the man himself. The one who wielded the blade that sliced through flesh and soul, rendering Genji a bleeding lump of despair and hatred for the longest time. He felt his insides churning, especially with a touch of disappointment. He had grown through his rage, found a peace in his soul, yet why was it still so hard to face his brother? Why did he freeze?

“Can I help you?” Hanzo inquired, his voice a husky tone as he murmured the question. 

“No. My apologies,” Genji murmured in Japanese, leaving a puzzled McCree to his side. He gave a polite bow of his head and hurried as he skirted around Hanzo.

Genji moved quick, and he heard the stumble in McCree’s steps as he scrambled to follow. Without a single glance back, Genji kept onwards and forced his mind to think of a single goal: escaping the Hanamura Estate.

“Wait,” Hanzo called from behind, only allowing the two to get a good ten feet away. Almost as though it was instinct, Genji’s feet obediently shuffled into a stop at the commanding sound of his brother’s voice. So much like their father’s.

McCree’s mask stared empty at him, expression unreadable. “Let’s just run,” he whispered in a light tone, his voice carrying like the slightest touch of a breeze. It settled comfortably on Genji’s skin. While he registered the concern, the option wouldn’t work on his brother. He would give chase, and everything might escalate.

Without turning, Genji kept his voice low and asked, “Is there something you need?”

“Who are you?” The man asked without a hesitation, his steps echoing loud in Genji’s ears as he wandered closer. Tension built, and Genji could sense the frustration beneath McCree’s mask. The impatience.

“Is a masquerade event not to conceal identities?” Genji refuted. Anything to keep him from saying his name... but he had a feeling there would be no wiggling his way out of this one. Not unless he ran... like a coward.

“That is the intention, yes,” Hanzo answered, each word bringing a spike of unease in Genji. “But I know who all was invited, and I do not recognize you two.”

Because the two were speaking Japanese, McCree definitely had little idea what was being said. Genji would fill him in later... if the conversation didn’t become dangerous.

At the silence, Hanzo added, “I will be forced to have you escorted out if you don’t answer. The last thing I need is an unwanted guest.”

A sharp laugh escaped Genji, and his throat tightened at his own humor in all of this. His own childhood house— a home that never felt like one. For the second time, his brother might force him out of it. This time, however, it would be happily that he would leave— if it came down to it.

Words floated from his lips, his past self peeking through the veil he forced over it. “What are you going to do? Kill me? Again?” Genji asked with a bitter yet playful bite. He was still facing away from Hanzo, eyes glancing at McCree who stood confused.

When his brother did not respond, Genji turned to see him standing in the midst of the room, brows raised in an expression of deep concern in the crease of his forehead. He also looked... surprised. His eyes wide, almost in a peculiar awe that left a bad feeling in Genji’s gut.

“Impossible,” his brother breathed. His words hovered in the air, and Genji figured that he couldn’t hide any longer.

Slowly, he lifted his fingers to the mask and pulled it off, the red of his eyes glowing as he stared down his brother. His dark hair was tousled about, his face flat with metal along the jaw that melded into the cybernetics of parts of his neck and half of his torso. He wore clothing to wrap around it all, but some of the fabric slipped down his shoulder to reveal a shimmering of metal.

From behind, McCree cursed in a whisper. Over the comms, Mercy hissed, “If there isn’t a problem inside, could you all hurry back?”

Genji presser a ginger to his ear, flipping off the switch of the comms without hesitation. He was staring down his brother, and his heart felt like it would burst with all of the anxiety exploding within him. Yet he stood still, even as his stomach sank low.

“You- are dead. They said that they took care of it, so why? Why are you standing here again?”

“Take care of it?” Genji bit. “More like they threw me into the street to bleed to death. If it hadn’t been for— circumstances, then you would have succeeded.”

Conflict did not ease on Hanzo’s face, not even as it fell further with a slump of his prideful shoulders. Shame blossomed in his expression, forcing Genji’s head into a confused turn. He read remorse on the face of a man who never felt such an emotion. A man who never was allowed to feel such a thing.

“I’m glad,” Hanzo murmured.

“Glad for what?” Genji hissed.

“That you are alive.”

It made no sense. “Excuse me? You tear me apart and leave me for dead... yet you are somehow glad for my life?”

The man frowned. “You... don’t know. Do you?”

“Know what?”

“They wanted you gone because you could not comply. And I would not be where I am today if I did not comply.”

Genji had a feeling it might have been something like that, but pushing his anger into his brother seemed all the more easier. He had, after all, been the hand that did the deed. Even if he wasn’t the brain that decided upon it, what he did was just as cruel.

“You killed your own brother... for power. If that eases your mind in the slightest, then it shouldn’t.”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” A pause passed. “But why are you here? Why now?”

“My only relief is that you are not involved in why I’m here,” Genji revealed, his hands twitching with the instinct of grabbing for his blades hidden beneath his robes. “The Shimada clan has no reason to be smuggling weapons of war outside of the country. Or am I wrong?”

“Weapons of war!” Hanzo exclaimed, his hands tossing out. “We might have come from a family of criminals, but we wouldn’t do something so ridiculously out of hand as aid in foreign wars.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t believe it.”

“Who is that then? Why are you here for weapons of war?” Hanzo wondered, taking a stride closer. At this, McCree placed a gentle hand over Genji’s shoulder. He turned his attention to the man for a moment.

“We need to leave,” he told him in English. “Amelie reporter that the suspected Talon agents are acting paranoid. We can’t get caught.”

Genji nodded before turning back to his brother. “Farewell, brother, and I hope that should we meet again, you are on a better path.”

Hanzo’s mouth parted to retort, but Genji have him no time before rushing back down the hall with McCree in tow. His brother called out for him once more, but as they got further, he did not raise his voice.

Genji was supposed to be dead, so if someone found out he wasn’t—

He hid his face in his hands, and he rushed through the halls that he still knew like the back of his hand towards the nearest exit. When he turned the comms back on, his bones were soothed by the sharp lecturing from Angela that promptly began.

Gradually, he shifted into his new normal again, but his blood continued to stir with the meeting of his brother once more. Something was wrong there, but he would have to address it later.

When they got back on the plane to leave, Genji said nothing of Hanzo to the others and fell asleep. My, was he weary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven’t updated this in a minute because of that depression life. Also I’m probably always playing elder scrolls online (Elsweyr babey!) And just finished another draft of something that I’m now in the process of getting ready to query! Anyways, thanks for reading xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr under "orlays." Don't have other social media to promote since my twitter is dedicated to kpop oops


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